


Extracurriculars

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bottom Shiro, Come Dump, Dark!Adam, Double Penetration, Filming, Gangbang, Humiliation, Kabeshiri, Light Bondage, M/M, Manipulation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Slut Shaming, Spitroasting, Stuck in a wall, afab language, light watersports, teacher!shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Another hand squeezes at Shiro’s ass. “Bet he’s a good fuck.”“Don’t you dare!” Shiro growls. His mind is spinning.“Or what?” The leader says. His thumb skates in and touches Shiro’s rim. “You’re stuck old man,” he says.[non-con filth fic, read the tags!]
Relationships: Background Shiro/Adam - Relationship, shiro/oc
Comments: 15
Kudos: 206
Collections: anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **read those tags!!**
> 
> This one is a gift for very special anon, so if you enjoy it please thank the anon that has made this spontaneous filth fic possible!
> 
> ***This fic features Garrison cadets. Their ages are not ever mentioned, and they are the perpetrators, but Shiro is much older here and their teacher. I did not tag for underage, do with that what you will.

It’s been over twelve hours since the fight, but as Shiro slings the equipment into the storage room, he knows he’s still stuck on it. Adam had just been so— so—

So wrong. Shiro knows he’d just been looking for a reason to fight, it’s all they’ve been doing recently, but he’d still been _so wrong_. Adam had been smug about it too, calling Shiro out for every little thing. So what if he’s a little soft on cadet Keith, that kid has had it hard, he needs a good influence in his life, and Shiro wants to be that influence. It’s not like _that_.

Just remembering the comments brings an acidic heat back into Shiro’s belly. The audacity of Adam even imply _that_. With Keith of all people!

If Adam ever even took an interest in Shiro’s work, he’d know it wasn’t like that. Not with any of the cadets. In fact, today Shiro had overworked the cadets if anything. The fight at breakfast had left Shiro wound tight, and he’d brought that energy to work. At his morning lectures Shiro had been impatient with the students, and then in the afternoon training regimen he had been downright ruthless.

When the boys in training had fallen short on technique, Shiro had been sharp and exacting in his corrections, running them through extra drills and suicides as punishment. At the smallest protest, Shiro had then verbally dressed down one cadet, Whelhein, until the boy was red-faced and near shaking. All the other boys had done the rest of their drills silently after that, but with clear displeasure written on their faces.

It wasn’t something Shiro was proud of, letting his anger rule him, but there was nothing to be done for it now. Tomorrow maybe he could take a few of the boys aside and subtly apologize. In the future he could make a commitment to himself to leave his personal life at home.

It was just so hard with Adam sometimes. The line between work and personal blurred when you dated someone you also worked around.

Shiro stacks the cones and drags them back into the propped open storage room. He shoves the net of weighted balls that are sitting by the door in with them. He can feel the tension in his shoulders, the anger that’s still settled there, waiting for any reason to jump out.

Potentially though Adam has already apologized. Shiro’s left his phone in the office all day to avoid the temptation of typing out a nasty text, so maybe when he gets back to it Adam will have already come around and apologized. Shiro can only hope, he’s certainly not in the mood to go home and fight more.

He arranges the cones toward the back of the closet, picking up the weights and sliding them onto a low shelf. The only window in the storage closet shows a completely black night outside.

It’s way too late to still be here, but admittedly Shiro has done everything possible to waste time before having to go home. He hopes that Adam has come around, but he wouldn’t bet on it.

Then behind him there is a sharp sound of the door shutting.

Shiro stops and turns, but finds that he’s still alone. His eyes drop to the doorstop that is now inside the room with him. The doorstop that must have been pushed out from the door when he was dragging all the equipment inside.

Shiro blinks at it. Did he really just…?

He walks over to the door and tries to open it.

Nothing. It’s locked.

The bad news dawns on him all at once. Shiro doesn’t have his keys, and even if he did, the lock is on the other side. Every morning Shiro opens the storage room, and leaves it propped for the boys to get equipment out over the course of the day. When he finishes putting it all back, he just shuts the door, because the lock is always engaged to prevent forgetfulness and resulting theft.

Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Shiro tugs at the door to see if it has any give, but it’s Garrison made and completely solid.

So he’s locked himself in and… he doesn’t even have his phone. “For fucks sake,” he jiggles angrily at the door handle. Of all days, it had to be today.

He sighs and turns to the only other exit: the window. It’s halfway up the wall to match up with the ground outside since the gym is slightly sunken. It’s a small almost square, small enough to discourage anyone from trying to get in that way.

But it’s not like Shiro has any other option. If Adam decides he’s too mad to come looking for Shiro or wonder why Shiro has answered or come home, then Shiro could be stuck here all night.

And he refuses, downright _refuses_ to sit in this stupid closet all night. He won’t.

The first order of business is to get to the window. If he’s very lucky, there will still be someone around that could hear him. Shiro looks at all the gym equipment stacked up in front of the window and takes a deep breath.

It takes ten minutes to move it all out of the way, being careful to not also block the door in the small space. Shiro moves weights and nets and bats and hockey sticks. He finds the missing tennis rackets he’d been trying to find two months ago, and, curiously, a pair of skis.

Then finally the window is accessible. Shiro pries it open, wiping the spider webs and dust off on his jeans when he’s finished. Outside the air is cool and calm. He listens, but there’s nothing to indicate anyone is around other than night bugs.

“Hello?” He shouts. “Is anyone there?”

He calls for help for a few minutes before determining that no one is, in fact, around. The gym is set off from the main Garrison campus, and he curses that fact now.

There’s nothing else for it. He’ll have to squeeze through.

Fine.

Shiro urges the window open the last little bit to make the most room he can. Even so, looking at it now Shiro knows it will be tight. He’s certainly not small, never been small, and he’s put on a little weight in the last few years. Especially in the middle. 

Shiro steps up to the edge and pokes his head through. The smell of dirt is heavy. He reaches his hands through and touches the ground. It’s an awkward angle to try and climb out this way without leverage, but when he looks at the room, there’s little that he could use as leverage. Everything would just slide out from beneath his feet.

Fine.

Shiro leans out the window, curling his chest and shoulders in to try and make himself smaller. He fits… barely, his shirt scraping against the edges of the window. It’s awkward, a little painful how the window lip digs into his back.

He pushes up on his toes and levers his upper body through, slow and careful. His hands scrape at the dirt and grass and lack of leverage. Slowly but surely, Shiro fits his chest through, wiggling stupidly the whole way.

But then he’s on his toes, and trying to push his stomach through and— he hits a block.

It’s the belly. He knows even without looking, and he huffs annoyed at himself. It’s the late night drinks, the sweet pastries he picks up for breakfast when he’s in a hurry. It’s his age, softening him up despite his best efforts.

Though admittedly he teaches more drills these days than he actually does.

Shiro pushes again and gets an inch more out the window. His chest is now skimming the grass, his body bent. Any further and he won’t be able to push with his feet, so he tries to pull with his arms.

And then he hits full stop. Between his stomach and ass he’s… too thick to fit through the window. “Fuck,” Shiro hisses, banging his fist on the ground.

He tries for another minute more to find any give forward, but it’s impossible. He’s too big.

Fine.

Shiro pushes his torso back up and goes to slide back through the window and back into the storage room—

But he doesn’t move.

He pushes again, wiggling back. There’s a small amount of give, but then his belly stops him. He’s bent over in the window and the angle means he can’t suck it in. He’s stuck.

“No, no, no,” he chants, squirming in the window. He tries for forward again and gets nowhere. Backward is the same. There’s about an inch of give in either direction, but otherwise he’s lacking leverage to force himself through.

Shiro curses. This cannot be happening. It cannot.

He fusses in the window until the rubbing against the window ledge is painful and his muscles are sore. When Shiro collapses down into the grass it feels like a particularly demoralizing defeat.

Of all the stupid things to happen to him, he’d never foreseen this. Stuck in a window after getting locked in a storage room. _Humiliating_.

He folds his arms and pillows his head on them, listening for any sounds that would indicate someone is outside. Minutes tick by with nothing but crickets and a light breeze. Shiro can’t imagine what it’ll be like if he has to be here all night. Surely at some point a security officer will come this way?

But the odds aren’t good. Garrison is fenced and camera monitored, the only place security guards are is around the main tech area. The odds of someone coming to the backside of the gym and seeing him are… slim.

So instead of staying positive, Shiro decides to brood. Stuck in the window with nothing else to do seems like the perfect time for it. He closes his eyes and thinks of the prior morning, of the last few weeks where he and Adam have done more sniping at each other than anything else.

If Shiro hadn’t been so angry, he wouldn’t have been so careless putting the equipment away. And even if he had, he would have at least had his phone!

So really, this is Adam’s fault.

##

Shiro is drowsing a while later when a sound catches his attention. Blinking his eyes open, he tilts his head and tries to listen.

It’s muted, only noticeable because of how long Shiro has been out here listening to the monotony of the night.

But there’s a sound, maybe a door, from somewhere behind him. Somewhere beyond the storage closet.

Hope sparks bright inside his chest. Immediately Shiro turns his head to try and angle his voice back through the window.

“Hey! Hello! Anyone there?!” He pauses to listen, but when he doesn’t pick anything up, he starts shouting again. “I’m stuck in the supply closet! Hello!”

For a while nothing happens even as Shiro continues to make noise. Maybe it wasn’t a door, maybe it was just his imagination.

And then, “Hello?” a voice, from the other side of the supply closet door.

“I locked myself in!” Shiro replies. “My keys are in my office. Room 205 in the hallway!”

There’s some muffled sound then that Shiro can’t pick up.

Nearly a minute later comes the sound of a key in the door lock. Shiro could cry.

“Mr. Shirogane?”

Shiro is filling up the window, so he can’t see who it is, but the voice seems vaguely familiar. It must be a student, from the voice pitch.

He laughs a little sourly. “Yeah. Got myself locked in and tried to fit through the window, was not a winning strategy.”

“So you’re stuck?” It’s another boy’s voice this time.

“Yeah. Can you just pull me back in?”

“Sure.”

“Wait!”

Two different voices pip up, and then a hush of talking Shiro can’t hear. How many of them are there? Shiro frowns. Why are they out after curfew?

Strange.

“Hello?” He says.

“Just a second Mr. Shirogane,” This voice is deeper, a little cheeky. Shiro doesn’t like the sound of it. Something prickles across the back of his neck.

There’s more whispered talking.

“What’s going on?” Shiro asks.

No response. The voices are rapid then, like an argument.

“Cadets?”

“Do you know which cadets?” Comes a boy’s voice. One that’s spoken before, but it’s hard for Shiro to decipher which. They all sort of sound the same through the muffled space.

“Which cadets?” Shiro asks.

“Our names, do you know our names?” Asks the haughty one.

Shiro couldn’t even begin to guess. “Uh. Can you just pull me out?” And then, foolishly, “Why are you boys even out so late?”

“See!” One hisses. “If we pull him out he’ll report us.”

“I won’t!” Shiro says, but it’s a weak protest, and they all know it. Shiro has drilled following the rules into these boys, and he makes exceptions for no one.

Well, _almost_ no one.

“I say,” the one boy says, and Shiro is beginning to think of him as the leader, “We ditch the graffiti and go for a much more direct payback.”

Graffiti?

It comes together in Shiro’s head then— these boys were breaking into the gym to deface it. That’s why they’re here in the middle of the night, and it’s why they’re dawdling on pulling him out. Likely they have paraphernalia with them that would require Shiro to write them up.

“You better help me _right this second_ ,” Shiro commands with his most Professor voice.

But then, instead of being heeded, a hand rubs lasciviously across his ass. “Sure, Mr. Shirogane,” the leader says with a grope. “We can help you out, can’t we boys?”

“After the drills today, I would be more than happy to, I’m still _aching_ ,” another boy says.

There’s a chorus of laugher. Shiro feels a chill run through him. It’s clear what they’re alluding to, and Shiro’s so stuck there’s little he could do about it.

The hand runs up the back of Shiro’s shirt, and he struggles against it. “If you don’t pull me out right now, I’ll get you all expelled,” Shiro threatens.

“Hmm,” a new voice intones. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t know who we are?”

Shiro throws out a name as a guess, but the mean laughter that follows seals his fate. Wrong.

_Fuck_.

“Guys, are you sure we should…” a voice says.

But already the leader is reaching around Shiro’s hips to the button of his jeans. “Look at him, there’s never been a better opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. Did you enjoy those drills he put us through? No. They were hell, and pointless. He just wanted to watch us suffer. Maybe he even gets off on it.”

The button comes undone and then the zipper. The boy is not shy in how he gropes Shiro through his jeans.

There’s a sound Shiro can’t name and then, “Anyway,” another boy says, “you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it, putting Mr. Shirogane in his place.”

A murmuring of agreement, and then the leader is tugging Shiro’s jeans down over his hips.

“Don’t! You fucking little—“

A hard tug then bares Shiro suddenly. “Might want to watch your language coach.”

The air feels cold on his naked skin, and Shiro squirms. He can’t imagine how he must look, stuck in the window, and jeans down to his knees.

“Got a great ass,” says the leader. The hand returns now, but on his bare skin. It touches him possessively, like Shiro’s ass is _his._ “Little soft around the middle, but still tight here,” there’s a swift smack against his skin. “Fuck look at that, don’t you just want to see that bounce on your cock?”

“Stop!” Shiro demands, “Or I’ll—!”

“You’ll what? Scream? Shout? You can try,” a boy says, “but there’s no one else around. We checked. And anyway,” there’s a sound of a camera click then. “Would be a shame if the admins became aware of your… proclivities.”

They’ve taken a photo of him, of his bare ass. Shiro’s face burns with shame.

The leader laughs. “Nice,” he says, “but you need to get the main attraction.” Then he’s pulling Shiro’s cheeks apart and there’s another snap of a camera.

“Pink little hole he’s got,” one says.

“Yeah, would be a lot of trouble if your bosses were to see this photo coach, you just look bent over and ready for it. Oh, and the Garrison logo is even in frame on those cones beside you. Representing the Garrison.”

The boys laugh.

“You ever had an ass?” One asks.

“Nah.”

“They’re tight as fuck.”

Another hand squeezes at Shiro’s ass. “Bet he’s a good fuck.”

“Don’t you dare!” Shiro growls. His mind is spinning from the conversation, from the implication of the photos.

“Or what?” The leader says. His thumb skates in and touches Shiro’s rim. “You’re stuck old man,” he says, and then to the other boys, “any of you got something to lubricate? Don’t want to chafe my dick.”

Shiro curses again and tries to pull away, but it’s pointless. There’s no more give than there was before. Still, he can’t just stand here doing nothing. He can’t just let them—

“No.”

“Nah.”

“Wait! McClain always has some. He’s always using that baby oil shit and taking pictures of himself in the locker room.”

“Oh yeaaaaah.”

“Can you get it?” The leader asks.

“Yeah, should still be there, he never puts his shit away. Hold on.”

One of them leaves, a dull set of footsteps pounding away.

“You can’t do this,” Shiro says.

“I think we can,” the leader says.

Shiro’s struggling to wrap his mind around what’s happening. It’s all devolved so quickly, and he can’t seem to get his hand on the steering wheel.

“Anyway,” another boy says, “We can all see that you’re into this.”

Shiro opens his mouth to… question? Protest? But then a hot hand wraps itself around Shiro’s cock. His cock that is, in fact, more than a little hard.

“That’s not—I’m not—“

The hand strokes him root to tip, and Shiro clamps his mouth shut at the twisty strike of pleasure that runs through him. He’s not into this, he’s not—!

“Pervy old man. Coaches always are, aren’t they? They love to order boys around, watch them work out and sweat. Bet Shirogane has taken a hand to his cock more than once at the thought.”

The hand around Shiro’s cock strokes again. “Damn, he’s big too.”

Shiro’s teeth grit together, but he doesn’t know if it’s the arousal or the anger that’s getting to him. They’re wound together now, growing with every casual, lewd touch, every derogatory remark.

“Anyone care if I go first?” The leader asks. The rest of the boys make uncommitted mumbles. “Great.”

Then there are steps running back, and a boy breathing heavier than the rest. “Here.”

“Perfect,” the leader says.

“Stop!”

But no one listens to Shiro. Instead a wet finger touches the rim of his hole. He tightens on instinct, shutters a breath.

“Relax,” coos the leader. “Or this will hurt.”

“Fuck you.”

The boy laughs. “Nah, I think I’m going to be the one fucking you,” he says, and then pushes his finger in.

It’s been… a while for Shiro. With all the Adam drama, they haven’t exactly been spending a lot of time in bed together having sex. Even when they did, it was not often penetrative.

Shiro bows his head into the grass, hands fisted as the boy carelessly fingers him. It’s a rush job that’s more concerned with spreading lube than anything else, and Shiro tries not to give them the satisfaction of reacting.

It’s hard though, real hard. He hasn’t taken himself in hand for more than a few days, busy with work, and his body is reacting even to this crude form of stimulation. The fingers plunging into him are mean, but they also make his dick jump.

But before too long the fingers pull out, and something worse balloons up inside Shiro’s chest. Fear. Anticipation. Desi— NO.

The hand still on his cock gives him another stroke, and some part of his brain registers that he’s practically _dripping_ , and soon they’ll all know. 

“I’m really going to enjoy this,” the boy says, and then something blunt is at Shiro’s hole.

Shiro tries one last time to squirm away from it, but the window only bites into him, and then the hand around his cock clamps tight. Immediately Shiro stops moving. A cock pushes its way past his rim.

The boy hisses and Shiro swallows the sound that tries to get out of his mouth. The boy is… sizeable, and he’s not being careful. Instead he just bullies himself into Shiro, hands clawing around Shiro’s hips with greed.

“Fuck, he’s tight,” the leader says, sliding deeper. Then, “yeah, get closer, I’ll want this video for later.”

“Don’t!” Shiro groans as the cock takes up more room inside him. The pain of it is loud in his head, but somehow the thought of them filming is worse.

Maybe it’s that long after this is done the boys will still have the video and be able to watch him take it over and over again. Or worse, the boys could use the video to blackmail Shiro into—

The boy begins to move.

It’s too soon, too fast. Shiro shoves his knuckles in his mouth and bites down as the cock fucks deep into him. It’s a hot slide, and Shiro can only think about that camera, recording his fluttering hole stretched wide around the girth.

“He’s still hard,” a boy says.

The leader laughs and pushes in deep. “Oh yeah?” His hand slides around and the other boy takes his hand off Shiro’s cock so the leader can fist it. “He’s fucking dripping, I knew it.” He’s breathing heavier now as he fucks Shiro, building up a rhythm.

“He’s gonna get off on this. Should we let him boys?”

There’s a scuttle of derision. “Not until we all have a turn, the pervert can wait.”

The leader leans over Shiro’s back and lets out a breathy grunt. The hand around Shiro’s cock moves down to the base and squeezes. “Yeah, _perfect_.”

It’s hard to know what that comment refers to exactly, but Shiro’s insides spread with fire as the boy continues to fuck him. Is taking him like this perfect? The boy’s cock has length, and it’s scouring Shiro out to know how much the boy is enjoying himself, how eager he was to jump on an opportunity to fuck Shiro. It hadn’t taken nearly anything, and all these boys were ready to take a turn in his ass.

Were there more cadets like them? More boys he’s run too hard in training who would take any opportunity to get Shiro over a desk or down on the mat?

The fear is a full body shiver that feels like arousal the way it slides into pulsing, heart-pounding heat. It’s awful, the knowledge, the way he’ll never be able to unknow it.

“Oil,” the leader says, and then a moment later his fucks are smoother, _wetter_. 

“That’s fucking hot,” a boy says.

Shiro’s teeth bite into his skin at the moan low in his throat. His cock is throbbing, but the boy’s hand tight around the base of him means orgasm is out of reach. At least until… they all have a turn?

Shiro doesn’t know how to feel, everything is becoming so darkly entangled. His head is falling apart under the strain of the situation, the pleasure and pain pulling him apart in opposite directions. He wants to come, but he’s afraid of what that would mean, what the boys would say.

“Yeah,” the leader says, as though he can hear Shiro’s very thoughts. He drives into Shiro’s ass faster now, moving him by his hips in a slapping kind of fuck. “Good for you too slut?”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, too afraid if he does he might just moan instead. Then someone grabs his foot and lifts, messing with his shoe. The momentary confusion is solved when they do manage to get the shoe free, and then tug his jeans off one leg.

Unburdened by clothing, Shiro’s leg is manhandled to widen his stance by one of the boys, allowing the cock to drive in the next time at a deeper angle. An electric spike of pleasure batters Shiro. He tears his hand away from his mouth as the boy nails his prostate perfectly.

A moan falls out then is too loud, too desperate. They’ve got him spread like a whore on a breeding bench, and every further humiliation only makes Shiro hotter.

It incentivizes the cadet.

“Fuck, you are a slut.” The boy is pounding into him, groaning at how tight and good Shiro feels. “You love this, being spread and taken.”

“Isn’t he dating that other professor?” A boy taunts.

“Yeah, what’s his name, my friend is in his class. Mr. West?”

“Yeah. West.”

The boy fucking him leans in again, his voice too close. If Shiro wasn’t stuffed in the window opening, he’s sure there’d be only inches between their faces. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he grunts.

That’s the obvious outcome, but it’s obscene to hear it. He’s going to come, in Shiro. He’s going to come no matter what Shiro wants, because Shiro is nothing but a—

He shudders and clenches down on the cock railing into him.

“Yeah,” the boy snarls, “clamp down on me, make me come.”

When Shiro doesn’t again, the hand around his cock tightens a fraction in threat.

Shiro tightens on the cock.

“That’s it.” The last few thrusts are savage, the boy taking him deep. “Fuck— _ah—yes—“_

Then the boy lets out a long moan of pleasure, and his cock starts throbbing inside Shiro, spilling heat. Tears are blurring Shiro’s vision, but from the pain or the repressed pleasure, he doesn’t know. His cock feels heavy, clamped as it is, and he has nothing else to focus on but the pulsing cock inside him.

When the boy pulls out there’s cool air, and a disgusting spill that begins to drip from his abused hole.

“Get a close up,” someone says, pulling his cheeks apart. Shiro makes a sound of distress, he feels swollen and too wet. His hole must be _wrecked_.

“What a whore,” the leader says. “Second?”

“Me,” another boy says.

“Stop, please,” Shiro says, but just as the hand comes off his cock, another takes its place.

“I want third,” a boy says, “before he’s too sloppy.”

“I don’t mind fourth,” another says. “If you’ve never run a train, there’s ways to make them tight on you.”

A side discussion breaks out then on this subject, but Shiro tunes it out, he can’t bear to listen. The heat of someone else stepping up against him draws his focus. Fourth, the one had said. _Fuck_. Fingers touch Shiro’s slippery rim.

“What a mess,” the boy says.

“What would your boyfriend say Mr. Shirogane?” the leader sneers.

“You could send him a picture.” The one sliding his cock into Shiro says, “Make like a clone account. This nerdy guy in the cafeteria was telling his buddies how to do it.”

Shiro whines at the ache, the cock pushing into him is bigger than the previous.

“Four, do you know how to do that?”

“Don— _ah_!” Shiro starts, but garbles the rest as the boy rams his cock in.

“Like fucking a cunt,” he says with a satisfied tone.

“Plushest cunt I’ve seen in a while.”

“Yeah, I haven’t seen an ass bounce like that except in porn.”

“Give me the camera,” the leader says.

The second time, somehow, is worse. The boy fucks harder and his cock is _thick_. Even with how loose and wet Shiro is now, it’s still a struggle to take. Not that Shiro has a choice. This time he can’t help crying out as it fucks in and out his tender rim. The noises he makes wind the other boys up, but Shiro can’t stop. Even as that dark energy rises in the air, Shiro can’t stop.

In the room the group is devolving into something similar to a mob, feeding on each other energy and egging each other on. They jeer and shame Shiro, backhand compliment him on how well he takes a cock.

At some point someone smacks him on the ass, and then Shiro can feel another cock against his hip, smearing wetness on him. A boy jerking off or warming himself up.

Because aside from the fucking they’re also watching him, taping him. They’re raking over every bit of his body and enjoying it.

A smack on his ass comes from the man fucking him. “Tighter, bitch.”

Shiro does, helpless and fearful of what’s happening. He wants to come, he doesn’t want to come.

He doesn’t want to take two more cocks.

“Yeah, train that slut.”

“Keep that pussy tight for us.”

Someone puts a hand on Shiro’s lower back and pushes down, making Shiro arch what he can while still stuck. The fuck grows louder and sloppier as the man inside him nears his own end.

“You want to come, whore?” The leader is beside him, speaking low as the other boy rabbit fucks Shiro to his end. A finger slides around the wet head of Shiro’s cock, teasing. He’s oversensitive and still can’t come due to the hand wrapped around the base of him.

“ _Please_ ,” Shiro says as he feels the cock in him begin to spill. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, only that he needs something, anything. The boy inside him fucks through an orgasm, cursing his pleasure. 

“Please what?” The leader asks as the boy finishes and pulls out.

Shiro’s whole body is a line of strain. “Please stop.”

The leader laughs, and another cock touches Shiro’s hole. “Wrong answer.”

Then an absolutely monstrous cock shoves into Shiro’s hole.

Shiro cries out with an agonized sound, and his hands dig into the ground. It feels like being impaled.

Still, his own treacherous cock throbs, and leader’s hand that was teasing his tip slides down and clamps down on him. “Ah, ah,” the boy chides, “if you want to come, you’ll beg for it like the cockslut you are.”

“N—no—t.”

“Definitely a slut,” another boy says. “He takes cock like a champion. Yo, One, I set up that spoof account on my phone.”

“Shit, really?” The leader asks.

Shiro’s following pleas fall on deaf ears. The third man takes him careless of his protest, near silent as he fucks.

But it’s not better. The other three boys fill the silence with commentary and taunts. The sound is disgusting, and Shiro can feel the come slopping out now with thrusts, dripping down his thighs.

“Maybe when we finish we should just leave you like this. Put up a little sign and let anyone who needs to let off some steam have a go. I’m sure plenty of cadets would love a go, since we’re training him up so nicely.”

“He’d enjoy that too much.”

A scoff, “Yeah, probably. His cock is still rock hard. Disgusting bitch.”

Shiro’s panting hard, wound too tight. He know without the hand on him he would have come by now, and the knowledge makes him burn. What they’re saying it’s… right. Even as he tries to choke out denials, he can feel it under his own skin. He may have started this not wanting it, but everything in him now is just wishing the hand on his cock would loosen so Shiro could come.

This cock strikes his prostate with nearly every stroke, too big not to, and it’s awful. Shiro feels plugged up with come and cock, desperate.

“Please,” His face is pressed into the grass now, all thoughts of holding himself together long abandoned. His hands claw into the Earth like he can stabilize himself, but it’s useless. It’s all useless.

He’ll be used any which way these boys want, until they’re done.

The man fucking him speeds up then. “Beg him for it,” the leader says.

Shiro shakes his head, more than a little out of it.

“Be a good little cocksleeve,” another says.

“Do it, or we’ll send the pictures to your boyfriend,” the leader says.

This strikes like lightning through Shiro’s haze. He clenches on the cock and the man groans. “Fuck!”

“Do it,” the leader hisses. His other hand is now fingering the crown of Shiro’s cock, rubbing just beneath the corona where he’s so, so fucking oversensitive. “Beg for his come, or we’ll send the photos.”

Shiro gasps, whines, the words fill his throat. “Don’t— I— please—“

“Please, _what_?”

Then there’s nothing else. Shiro’s been pushed too far, and he doesn’t have anything else left. He can’t, can’t let Adam see those photos. The humiliation alone would—

“C—come.”

The man’s thumb rubs up to where he’s leaking. “Be specific,” his voice is cruel and full of command.

Shiro whines. “Pl—please come… in me.”

The next thing he knows the boy in him is fucking deep, too deep, and Shiro’s body is trying to jerk uselessly away from the sheer of it. But he’s stuck, so stuck, and so the man gets his cock as deep as it will go and gives Shiro his come.

Shiro breathes hard the smell of night air and his own sweat. He feels filthy, too used and too full of come. The boy fucking him grunts his orgasm into Shiro for a while, and then pulls out. There’s what feels like a lake of liquid that follows. Shiro squeezes his eyes shut to try and pretend it’s not happening.

The leader’s hands on his cock stay. A finger continues to play with his tip, and the sensation is so sharp that Shiro can barely focus on anything else.

The man makes a low, amused sound. “You know what,” he says then, touching Shiro with casual ownership, “Why don’t we send that email.”

“No!” Shiro shouts.

“Done,” says another boy.

“You can’t—!” The thought is terrible. Adam can’t see him like this.

“I sent, _his ass is a great fuck_.”

The boys laugh, there’s another sound of a camera going off.

“My turn then?”

“Yeah,” the leader says. “You gonna show us your tips for making a sloppy whore tight again?”

“Yeah. If you don’t have a monster cock like L—Three, you can improvise.”

There’s some kind of nonverbal communication then, because there’s a pause and then laughter.

“Yeah I can go again,” the leader says, then to Shiro, “You ever taken two cocks at once coach?”

Shiro groans pathetically. He can’t believe this is happening, that it keeps happening, that it keeps getting _worse_.

And now, Adam.

But maybe Adam will get the email and come find Shiro. Maybe he’ll report it.

Or maybe he’ll be asleep, and Shiro will get out of this and be able to go home and delete the email before Adam ever sees it. His blurry brain latches on to this idea as the only way he can think to salvage the night.

“How should we do this, the angle is kinda bad?”

There’s a low mumble of discussion that Shiro doesn’t care to hear. It doesn’t really matter what they say, he doesn’t have a choice until they decide they’re done.

“Oh shit!” One of them says then. “Mr. West just messaged me back.”

“No shit, what’s it say?”

Shiro can practically hear the smile in the boy’s voice, “it says, _have you tried his throat?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can expect the second part to be almost all filth. Anon gave me very excellent ideas, and I can't wait to bring them to you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check those tags, there have been additions for this second part!

_Have you tried his throat?_

Shiro can’t— his mind spins on the words, trying to make sense of them. He can’t. He can’t.

He must have heard it wrong, or the boys must be lying, Adam wouldn’t—

He wouldn’t.

But then Shiro remembers the fight, the nasty snarl on Adam’s face when he struck the killing blow, _is that what you like Takashi, a pretty little thing you can shape any way you like?_

Shiro had put that comment down to the heat of the moment. A lot of people said things that weren’t okay in a fight.

But this…

“I knew he was a kinky bastard,” one of the boys says.

There’s laughter, and then the leader’s hands are back on Shiro’s ass. “Well let’s not waste anymore time then.”

Whatever happens after that, Shiro can’t hear it, not that he really tries. He’s still face down in the grass trying to pull himself back together after being dealt such a blow. His cock is still hot and heavy, and he hates himself for it. He hates that the idea of Adam giving these boys tips is still working for him.

Will Adam come here? Surely it can’t be difficult to guess Shiro’s last location. If he did, would it be like… that? Adam standing back, watching the boys fuck load after load into him, giving them orders on how best to break Shiro down.

He hates that instead of disgust, Shiro just gets more electric heat. What is _wrong_ with him?!

“Should we send your lover a thank you?” The leader asks, running his hand across Shiro’s hole. “It was so nice of him to give us a tip.”

Shiro doesn’t respond. His eyes are clenched shut as that finger plunges into his sore hole and scoops out come.

“Nice and close,” the leader says, talking to the person filming. Shiro flinches, clenching on the finger. “Oh, that’s good, _again_.”

Shiro doesn’t, but then a pinch to his thigh has him cooperating.

“Looks like a real pussy now, drooling like that.”

“I’m getting hard again,” one boy laughs.

Then the finger stops, and the leader tells them to send the video. Shiro flushes shamefully. He opens his mouth to say… something, but then a hand grabs hard at his hair.

Shiro jerks in surprise, flailing as two boys with their faces hidden by bandanas haul his torso up. He tries to grab or hit, but it’s no use, they’ve caught him off guard and stuck. Between the two of them, they manage to get a bandana wrapped around Shiro’s wrists and tied tight.

Then another is being tied around his eyes, blocking out his sight.

“Hey! Stop!”

“Alright he’s secured,” one of the boys on the outside says.

“Blindfold too?” The leader asks.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect.” They crowd him, Shiro can feel their body heat, and he thrashes instinctually.

Another pinch, this time to his ass. “Calm down, we’re going to pull you out,” the leader says.

Shiro stills just enough to find that, blindfolded and tied as he is, they are in fact grabbing him in a way that is more helpful than sexual.

The two teams coordinate then to bend and push Shiro back through the window, being strangely careful when he complains about the window ledge or his joints. It takes about a minute of fussing, but considering how stuck Shiro felt, the effort required to free him is a little underwhelming.

“Well that wasn’t so bad,” the leader states when they’ve lowered him to the ground. Shiro’s other pant leg is pulled free and thrown away. “Must have enjoyed being stuck, huh? Wasn’t that hard to get you out at all.”

Shiro frowns and tries to stand, reaching up with his bound hands to undo the blindfold. Immediately a trio of hands land back on him, stilling all his movements.

“Ah, ah,” one of the boys says, “we aren’t finished yet.”

It’s then that Shiro remembers the fourth boy.

“Let’s move him to the mats,” another boy says. “There we can really put him through his paces.”

Shiro struggles against this, but it’s difficult bound and blindfolded and exhausted. Two of the boys are able to move him, and when the other two rejoin the party, Shiro has no chance against four. As he lands on the mat, Shiro can only think to be stupidly grateful it’s slightly more comfortable than the window or the floor.

The boys strip him of his shirt, leaving him naked, on all fours, blindfolded.

“Turn over, let’s get a good look at you.” One of the boys says.

Instead Shiro curls into himself, trying to hide his nudity.

A shoe touches his side in warning. “Be good for us,” the leader says, “and maybe we’ll let you come.”

He doesn’t trust them at all at this point, but what other choice does he have? Shiro makes another quick go for the blindfold, but the boys are on him just as fast.

Then they’re bodily flipping him onto his back.

There’s a titter of amusement, then a finger tracing up the underside of his cock. “So, still into this, huh?”

“I’m not,” Shiro grits.

The finger becomes a fist, tightening around his cockhead in a slick tug. Shiro groans, too worn down to keep it in. The boys laugh.

“Alright Four,” the leader says, “you’re up.”

The hand on his cock moves off, but then someone else is manhandling Shiro. The boy— Four— has large hands, and the easy way he moves Shiro tells Shiro he’s no small boy. Shiro makes a sound of protest, and tries to fight, but then there are more hands on him, guiding. His balance without sight is shit, there’s nothing he can do.

Before Shiro knows it, he’s kneeling over Four’s lap, and heavy hands are urging him down on to a cock. It slides in obscenely easy with a slick sound because of how full Shiro is with come. Shiro chokes at how it plunges deep.

“I’ll be thinking about this next time we do drills,” Four, says. 

That hadn’t been something Shiro had considered before, that after this there would be boys who would be in his classes and would… remember him like this. It’s humiliating and Shiro tries to tilt his head away in shame, but it’s impossible to do blindfolded. It’s a uniquely invasive experience to be unable to see them while they all watch him, while they look at _all_ of him.

A hand lands on the back of Shiro’s neck and pushes down, collapsing him down against Four, who is now reclined beneath him. The cock inside him shifts, and then pushes back in deep.

“Okay,” says Four, “Who’s in?”

“Two?” The leader offers. “I want this mouth we’ve all heard about.”

There’s some movement on the mat, and then Shiro is aware of someone kneeling down behind him.

“No!” Shiro says, sternly. “I can’t— that’s too much!”

“So that’s a no on having taken two before, coach?”

“Fuck you,” he hisses.

A hand grabs at Shiro’s head and tugs him to look blindly upwards. “You can deny this all you want,” the leader says, “but you’re barely fighting us, and that cock of yours looks like a stiff breeze could get you off. All of us know how strong you are, your _Garrison records_. If you didn’t want this to be happening, it wouldn’t be.” The hand tightens and Shiro gasps, mouth agape, “So why don’t you give up the game, and just admit you’re hot for it.”

“I’m not.”

“You begged Three to come in you.”

“I didn’t—!”

“Take him.” The leader orders, and drops Shiro’s head.

Before Shiro can protest, the other boy pushes his cockhead against Shiro’s hole. His already very, very full hole. It’s just a little pressure, but Shiro tightens up at the threatening soreness. The boy beneath him lets out a hard breath.

“Fuck, this is gonna be so good.”

Then Two pushes in again, and manages to get a little bit more of the head in. Shiro has to forcefully relax himself. If he can’t stop this, then making it more difficult is only going to hurt him. It shames him to do so, because he doesn’t _want_ it.

He doesn’t.

Shiro feels the crown of the head pop completely in, and both boys make gratuitous sounds of pleasure. Behind the blindfold Shiro keeps his eyes shut, as though he could block it all out.

It’s a near impossible feat though. Behind him the cock presses inexorably in, forcing him open, more open than he’s ever been. The pain is so fucking much, but still Shiro feels his cock jerk against Four’s stomach. He hopes the boy didn’t feel it.

“Look at that, taking it like a whore. Jesus he’s tight,” Two says.

Four takes a shaky breath, “No kidding.”

The press in feels like it takes forever. Every part of Shiro’s attention is snatched up by it, the pain starting sharp and becoming some bone deep throb that doesn’t fade even as the boy presses his hips to Shiro’s.

He gups for air, his throat dry and eyes wet. He feels shaky and overstretched, the fact that there are two cocks stuffing him up thrums in Shiro’s head. It’s a unique feeling, one he knows he’ll never be able to forget.

“Ready?” Asks Two, but Shiro knows he is not talking to him. Four grunts.

Then they both start to move. Shiro cries out, straining against the tie on his wrists, trying to get away from the intensity of it. Four’s hands are tight on his hips, moving him back down and onto the cocks, there’s no escape. 

Curses fall out of Shiro’s mouth, more from the overwhelming sensation of it all than anything else. He feels his rational mind falling away again, but this time it’s going in a way he knows is dangerous. Behind the pain is a need, an electricity, and he can see how easy it would be to lose himself in it.

As easy as the cocks fucking into him now. He’s already been well used, so once the initial breach is done, it’s all too easy for them. They make up a messy rhythm, staying slower than a normal fucking, but neither boy seems to mind. And Shiro…?

He bows his head against Four’s shirt, breathing ragged as the motion slides his cock against the boy’s belly. Everything is an agony, but Shiro’s close, too, too close. Even the rough rubbing of his cockhead on the shirt is getting him there. He knows he’s going to spill messy all over this cadets shirt, and they’ll all see him and know that being fucked this full is what did it. _Fuck_ —

“I think it’s my turn,” the leader interrupts.

The fist yanks Shiro’s head back up, pulling him back onto his knees proper. Shiro hadn’t even noticed he’d been slipping as the cocks slid messy against each other in his ruined hole. A thumb presses to Shiro’s lips and he opens his mouth, gasping for air— for something—

“You’re going to suck me,” the leader says, thumb smearing saliva, “and if I get so much as a _hint_ of teeth, I’ll forward all the videos from tonight to the whole school. Got it?”

Even ten minutes ago Shiro would have argued that it would be foolish to make deals with any of them after the last time, but now getting out a whole sentence seems like a monumental feat. The rhythm has both cocks fuck all the way in, and Shiro can only make a keening sound.

There’s another tug on his hair. “Got it?” The leader growls.

Shiro must make some sort of agreement, because the next thing he knows there’s a blunt cockhead against his lips. It smells strongly of musk, sex, and Shiro doesn’t want—

The boy behind him curls hands around Shiro’s hips, and uses him as leverage to fuck faster. It feels like an obscene tug of war, where at least one cock is always buried in him, the other sometimes falling out or playing with his rim. They seem to enjoy pushing through the tight muscle there, or maybe it’s just the squelch of sound as come and oil drip out.

Shiro opens his mouth and the cock slides in, salty on his tongue.

“That’s it,” the boys says, guiding Shiro by his hair. “Let’s start nice and slow, the boys want to make this last, don’t they?”

There are grunts from all around. It’s hard for Shiro to focus, his mind feel gauzy and strange.

He wants to come.

The cock in his mouth does start slow then. It dips in, allowing Shiro to tongue and suck at it, before pulling out and sliding saliva across his lips and cheeks. The sensation is surprisingly gentle compared to the cocks bullying into him, and he tries to focus on just that. That, and breathing.

The boy’s cockhead is warm and soft, and when Shiro starts moving his tongue under the frenulum, there’s a bloom of salt on his tongue.

“Oh, you are good at this, aren’t you?”

Shiro hums. He was. Is. Adam had said so. Had trained him to it. Deep throating was one of Adam’s favorite things, and many a night he’d have Shiro laid back on the bed, forcing him to take his cock to the back of his throat. It had been fun, like a challenge, and there’s few challenges that Shiro didn’t love to excel at.

He wonders vaguely if this boy will fuck his throat. Shiro kind of hopes so, then he could show him how good he is. That’s what these boys want, isn’t it? They want Shiro to be _good_ for them. Shiro can be good.

But the boy spins the time out. He orders the other two to go slower and keeps dipping his cock into Shiro’s mouth, making it slide deeper only after minutes of time. Soon Shiro’s lips are feeling flushed and swollen, and his body has completely tuned toward the need to come. He’s so hard, smearing precome against the boy’s shirt.

He whines the next time the cock pulls out.

“What? Not enough for you?”

Shiro makes another sound.

“He still hard?”

One of the hands on his hips slide over and then cup him. “Yeah. Fuck.”

“Perfect. Alright, you boys can go whenever you want, don’t let him though. Not until you do, Four.”

The cock plunges back into his mouth, this time pressing deeper, almost into Shiro’s throat. Shiro moans, remembering his breathing, even as the boys fucking him begin to pick up the pace.

Quickly Shiro finds out just how hard it is to suck a cock while being fucked. The boys begin to move aggressively on him, moving his body just as they want it, nearly fighting over him to get his hole to milk them. It’s messy and disorganized, and it means more often than not Shiro chokes on the cock in his mouth.

The leader doesn’t seem to be bothered by this. If anything his hands tighten in Shiro’s hair to hold him there, gagging. “Yeah,” he grunts, “choke on me, bitch.”

“Fuck, keep— he tightens on us— it— _shit, shit_ ,” one of the boys fucking him says. The other moans in agreement.

Shiro can’t keep track of what’s happening. He’s quickly spiraling out of control, his body not his own, but puppeteered by these men. They rut into his cunt with greedy sounds, calling him _whore_ and _slut_ and _cocktoy_.

And they’re right.

Shiro chokes hard the first time One’s cock does get into his throat. The man hisses as the panicked pulsing of his throat, and holds Shiro’s face tight to his groin. “Your boyfriend is right,” he says, low and just for Shiro, “your throat is sublime.”

The men fucking him are finally nearing their end, making noisy, uncoordinated fucks into him. Four garbles something, and then presses all the way in. Shiro can barely feel the man come over how loud everything else is.

The leader lets him go just enough to get a breath. “I’m going to think about this every day you make us work these mats. Every lunge and pushup, I’m just going to imagine you like this, drooling for my cock.”

Then Two is burying himself in Shiro and dumping his come. This one Shiro feels more, because he’s overfull, overheated. There’s a hand on his cock preventing him from coming.

“Stroke him now,” One says, “and don’t stop until I say so.”

The two boys stay inside him, softening, but one of them starts to stroke Shiro’s cock.

The pleasure is like a fissure through him. Shiro groans as One fucks back into his throat.

“See I knew it, I knew you love it. Three cocks and you’re still desperate for it. Fucking disgusting. Does your boyfriend know? He seemed pretty eager to sell you out. Maybe that’s not so unusual though.”

The boy fucks him now with real aggression, making Shiro deep throat and gag. He yanks on Shiro’s hair to move him as he spits the words like bile.

“Does he take you around to get filled? Maybe loan you out to other teachers. Would explain why they fawn over you. All those records, and maybe they’re just because you’re so eager to get on your knees,” he hisses, “Maybe they’re just because you’re so good at cocksucking.”

Shiro’s throat is being battered, but he feels something like a moan come from him, ruined as it is by the cock fucking his mouth. He hates that the words are spiking his arousal, making him feel both ashamed and alight. The tight fist on him keeps going, and suddenly Shiro can’t breathe.

_He can’t breathe._

It’s—

There’s panic, and a cascade of heat and pain. Pleasure like a knife.

“Swallow me,” the man growls. He holds Shiro down, and it’s too much, too much—

He can’t even get a sound out. His arms flail, but they’re tied.

Shiro’s tied up, stuck. He’s to be used however they want.

He doesn’t want— he doesn’t—

He _does._

The tide breaks then, and Shiro’s whole body jerks. His orgasm is on him in a moment, powerful like being struck by lightning. Everything shorts out white, hot, and fizzling. There are sounds and air and his own come spilling over a fist. Shiro makes some sound then of agony or ecstasy, the difference is hard to know. Everything that is not the thick wall of pleasure is hard to know.

And then it drops. The fist on him is still stroking and it quickly tips into overstimulation. Shiro tries to move his hips, but three hands hold him steady.

“Yeah,” the leader says, fucking his mouth now quickly, “keep going.”

Shiro tries to struggle then out of instinct, but it only spurns the leader on. He’s heavying breath and fucking Shiro’s mouth with an almost manic glee. Shiro’s cock is a shrieking strange pain.

“Take it, fucking take it,” the boys says, and then there’s a hot salty liquid shooting into the back of Shiro’s throat.

He can barely focus on that, as the overstimulation has twisted cruelly inside him. There’s a rapidly building pressure, foreign and familiar at the same time. Shiro sputters to try and warn, but his mouth is full of come and he’s too slow. The hand stroking him is unforgiving, and so the next thing Shiro knows, he’s spilling again.

This time it’s—

He can’t even think it, the horror is too great.

“Is he…?”

“Shit!”

The cock in his mouth pulls out, and Shiro feels a blurt of come across his cheek, smeared then by the boys cockhead still fucking himself to his end against Shiro’s face. “You can stop,” the leader says. Then, to Shiro as he’s dribbling the last of his spill on Shiro’s cheek, “Pissing yourself? Disgusting whore.”

And it’s true. Shiro can feel it slowing and dripping, but he already completely drenched the boy beneath him. Of everything that’s happened, this shames him the most. It’s a complete loss of control.

“Disgusting,” another boy agrees.

The one beneath him moves. “Piss is not my thing you fucks.”

Then Shiro is suddenly on his back on the mat. He feels the gush of liquid between his legs, the sticky come still on his face. He’s utterly debauched, still blindfolded for their perusal.

“Spread your legs,” the leader says.

Shiro does, there’s no fight at all left in him.

“Look at his fucked out hole.”

Fingers touch him there, and he instinctually squeezes at them. He feels so open. Loose. He hates it. He needs—

No!

“Hungry cunt still wants more.”

There’s laughter all around.

“I suppose we could leave him for Mr. West. He was so gracious to offer the tip about his throat, which was fantastic by the way.”

“On it,” one of the boys says. Shiro hears several more clicks of the camera.

“Wait,” the leader says, and then there’s fingers at the knot on Shiro’s wrists. It’s quickly undone, and Shiro sighs at the feeling of being unbound. His wrists are sore and stiff. “Hold yourself open for the camera.”

Shiro reaches down and does as told.

“Ain’t he obedient now,” a boy says. The camera clicks.

“He knows his place.”

“Or he finally just got the dicking he needed.”

There’s a murmuring of assent.

“Yeah those are good,” the leader says. “Send them, just to Mr. West. He’s being good, so I think we can all keep this our little secret, hm?” The other three agree quickly.

“Should we go then? Mr. West could totally recognize the mats.”

“We will. But first, let’s make sure he has something nice to welcome him, eh?”

They order Shiro then onto his elbows and knees, and with the end in sight, he has nothing to argue. There’s nothing worse than stuffing him with cock and making him piss himself.

“Such a messy pussy on that one.”

“Three, a pen, please.”

Shiro doesn’t even flinch then when the firm tip of a writing utensil touches his ass cheek. One of them writes something across the planes of Shiro’s ass.

“Still needs something,” the leader says.

“Something to plug that dripping hole?”

“Oh wait, I’ve got an idea!”

There’s a sound of one of them walking away. “He’s not going to stay like that.”

“You don’t think?”

There’s a brief discussion. Shiro presses his face against the mat. His brain is still muddled, and he’s not ready to come back to himself. He’s not ready to face what they’ve done to him. What he _let_ them do.

“Fine, wrists and ankles then. Was that message clear that Mr. West needs to come get his slut?”

“Yeah.”

Bandanas are wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The ties aren’t as tight as before, just enough to ensure Shiro stays still. Not that he was going to be quick to move. His whole body feels worn through. He’s exhausted from the comedown, he could almost sleep like this he thinks.

“Here,” says the boy who had gone and returned.

And then something cool and smooth is pressing into Shiro’s hole. The slosh of come is loud. Fuck, he’s so full of it.

“It’s a relay baton,” the leader says. “Because you’ve been such a champ.” The boys laugh.

“New meaning to his title.”

“The _Champion_ ,” one says mockingly.

“Not so high and mighty now,” the leader says. He walks around Shiro, a hand caressing Shiro’s body like he owns it. They do by this point. Shiro would do anything if they asked it.

He was like that as a cadet, all those years ago. He jumped when the coaches said, flew higher and faster when it was demanded of him. But it’s been a long time since he was under anyone, and he didn’t know he still had this in him.

“Alright boys, let’s go. I think we made our point. Coach will be a little easier going forward I think.”

Shiro doesn’t speak, but he knows it’s true. He doesn’t know which boys these are, and the fear of that is going to keep him on edge. He knows he’s going to think of it the next time he’s in class or the gym, he’s going to worry if any of the cadets are looking at his ass because they know what it feels like to fuck him.

The boys have all those photos and videos too, and at any point they could blackmail him, make him get on his knees and service them. Shiro can see it so clearly, one of the boys sitting pretty on his own desk while Shiro is forced down on his cock.

Or maybe it would happen in the locker room, the rumors would spread and then suddenly Shiro would be corned, made to bend over as his students fucked him. Shiro squeezes around the baton and pretends that those ideas don’t wriggle hot in his belly.

The boys call various insults as they leave, and Shiro listens as their footsteps fade. Finally the sound of the gym door opening and closing signals his freedom. Except not really. Shiro’s still tied, ass up on a gym mat.

He wonders then if they really messaged Adam to come get him, or if they were just messing with him? He can’t decide which is worse, because if Adam isn’t coming, then either Shiro needs to perform a miraculous escape, or he has to wait for someone else to arrive. Another teacher or janitor or security guard seeing him like this is unbearable.

Shiro struggles with the ties for a bit, but he’s exhausted and they hold. Shiro could tip himself over, but the mat is still wet from his own spillings, and lying in that mess seems worse.

Then the door clicks open.

Shiro’s heartbeat skyrockets. A set of footsteps cross the gym directly toward him, and Shiro doesn’t know what to do. He’s almost too humiliated to speak. He wishes the boys had taken the blindfold off so Shiro could at least know what his fate was about to be.

“ _Free for public use_ ,” comes Adam’s clipped voice. From the tone of it Shiro can tell he’s reading the words written on Shiro’s ass.

“Adam! I— it wasn’t— I didn’t—!” Shiro doesn’t know what he’s saying, only that he feels an intense urge to apologize. He and Adam are in a serious relationship, and Shiro just let four men have him.

Adam pushes the relay stick a little deeper, and Shiro’s ramblings are cut off in a pathetic whine. “Yes, I see now why you’ve been so difficult, my accusation of your misconduct with your cadets struck a little too close to home, eh?”

“No, I didn’t want this! I wasn’t—!”

“You didn’t want this?” Adam sneers. “Are you really going to try and sell me that your teenage cadets overpowered you? And what, you just happened to let it happen? You happen to be set up so nicely for whoever came into the gym next?” He leans down close then, tugging the blindfold from Shiro’s eyes. “Let me tell you what I think happened,” Adam says, “Some boys came here with a late night proposition, and you let them. Bet you even liked being hog tied like this,” he reaches underneath Shiro then and finds his cock is, inexplicably, a little hard.

Adam strokes it with a hum of derision, and Shiro cries out, too sore. “No, no, please!”

“I saw you in those videos, mouth drooling as you panted for it. Filthy whore. _Free for public use_ is right, I should just leave you here for the first cadets of the morning to have a go.”

Shiro’s eyes burn after being blinded for so long. “No, please! Adam!”

“Hush,” Adam snaps. “I’ll untie you and take you home, but after that you’re going to repay for the kindness, and for putting up with you whoring yourself out.”

Shiro nods against the mat frantically. He’d do anything to avoid being left like this.

“Good,” Adam says. The ties come undone easily in his hands, and then he pulls out the baton, covered in come. “I think this little extracurricular venture of yours is going to work out real nicely for us,” he says as he helps Shiro unsteadily to his feet. Shiro doesn’t say anything, because there’s nothing to say.

The come is hot and sticky as it slides down his thighs like the filthy slut he is.

He lets Adam dictate everything after that, because Adam is right, Shiro does owe him.

Adam is right and Shiro is wrong, he thinks in their apartment as he bends to let Adam slide into his sloppy, loose hole, but Shiro can work to be better.

He can work to be _good_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a very special thank you to the requester of this fic! It was a lot of fun to write!!
> 
> (and for those of you waiting on another chapter of Likeness, I promise it is coming soon!)
> 
> ***Other Works by this Author***
> 
> [Infiltration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371711/chapters/43501592)  
> [Bend to Break](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662662/chapters/44259007)  
> [Providing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255062/chapters/50607728)  
> [The Likeness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22472353/chapters/53697259)  
> [Just Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25221826)  
> [Wishful Thinking](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053141)  
> [Little Red & the Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231970)


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